


words

by rire



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3144653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rire/pseuds/rire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of one-word themed drabbles for Takao and Midorima.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 4. Love

**Author's Note:**

> As the title suggests, I used a list of 242 one-word prompts and a random number generator. Rating may go up with updates.

It’s not easy.

Midorima is not sure what’s stopping him, but it feels like his entire body has frozen up whenever he tries to say those words. If Takao didn’t initiate things, he’d probably stand there for ages, still as a stone, mouth opening and closing again, before finally turning away and sulking in his room for the rest of the day.

Takao makes it look easy—drapes an arm around Midorima whenever he can, gives his shoulder little reassuring squeezes, lets the words fall out from his mouth as often as Midorima needs to hear it, accompanied with a warm smile every time.

He knows very well that the feeling is requited. And yet, no matter how hard Midorima tries, he can’t say them.

“They’re just words,” he mutters to himself, casting a quick glance at his own face in the mirror and trying to ignore the foolishness of the act. “Just say them,” he tells himself, a little louder this time. 

He glances over his shoulder for the tenth time, making sure that no one is watching, before he clears his throat and begins. 

“Takao. I…” 

His face heats up before he can finish, and he looks down, clearing his throat awkwardly again. He breathes in, then out, squeezing the lucky stuffed rabbit in his hand for reassurance.

“Takao. I just wanted to say that—To me, you—”

He clenches his fist and closes his eyes. “I love you.”

There. He’s said it. Not the real thing, but well, it's a good first step.

He cracks one eye open, and catches a hint of something moving behind him. But when he turns, no one’s there.

Little does he know that Takao Kazunari is right around the corner with his back against the wall, face crimson red and eyes wide with shock, holding a hand up to his mouth in a futile effort to keep himself from squealing with joy.


	2. 216. Minutes

Even to a stranger, it's not hard to notice that Midorima Shintarou is rather fastidious about many things. One of these things is punctuality—which is why he’s never, ever late.

Takao’s arrived at their dates late a couple of times before only to find that Midorima had been waiting all along, often arriving ten or twenty minutes early and dressed his Sunday best. Which is why it strikes him as odd when twelve o’clock rolls around and Midorima still isn’t here.

It’s especially unlikely that he’d be late on a day as important as today. There was no way Shin-chan would have forgotten their anniversary. Even on normal days he’d always show up early and prepared…

Takao lets out a breath. Well, maybe even Shin-chan makes mistakes sometimes. He’s only human, after all. Takao decides he’ll busy himself with staring at the time on his phone. For every minute, he makes up an excuse.

Five minutes. Maybe he couldn’t find the day’s lucky item in its usual store.

Ten minutes. Maybe he’s stuck in traffic.

Fifteen minutes. Maybe he’s helping an old lady cross the street. A very busy, very long street.

Twenty minutes, and Midorima still hasn’t shown up.

Takao leans his back against the wall and shuts his eyes tightly, trying not to worry as he runs out of excuses and his mind settles on the terrifying possibility that something bad might’ve happened to Midorima. Every minute feels like an hour, and when the half-hour mark finally rolls around, his hands are trembling slightly. He dials Midorima’s number, and no one picks up.

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, pocketing his phone. Just as he decides he’ll personally go over to Midorima’s house, his phone buzzes and he picks it up before the first ring even finishes.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” says an unfamiliar, clinical voice on the other side. “This is Sasaki General Hospital…”

Takao’s phone drops to the ground with a _thud_.


	3. 187. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this fic, Midorima and Takao already have an established relationship. The name of the baby and the identity of Akashi's spouse is up to you.

Midorima Shintarou has never been so bewildered in his life. 

The baby currently cradled in his arms—Akashi's daughter—hasn't shut up since her father left for an emergency meeting at work an hour ago. Wails of despair echoed through the room, piercing screams that rang in Midorima's ears, her tiny hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt and refusing to let go.

"Shh," Midorima whispers for the hundredth time. "I-It's okay..." 

Yeah, Midorima Shintarou may be a man of many talents, but taking care of a baby is not one of them. 

He can't pinpoint why she won't stop crying. He’s tried everything—food, music, rocking back and forth, putting on some TV—and nothing has worked. Maybe it's just the fact that she misses her father. Akashi's charismatic, commanding, responsible—more so than Midorima, anyway—and he probably could have calmed her down with a single glance. Or maybe it's the fact that Midorima just doesn't look very comforting. As reluctant as he is to admit it, he's been told he wears a permanent scowl, and his large build probably doesn't make him look friendlier, anyway. Or maybe even the fact that Midorima's hands are currently preoccupied with the screaming child and he is incapable of holding the day's lucky item, which is a rather heavy and dangerous antique vase. 

The baby is no less dangerous, though, if only to Midorima's sanity. Oha Asa did predict some minor troubles for Cancers today, but he hadn’t imagined that he would be stuck with a wailing baby and a pounding headache for over an hour. He’s in the middle of debating whether or not it’s worth throwing away his pride to phone Takao and ask him what to do, when a knock sounds on the door.

“Come in,” he calls out, because his hands are full. Both relief and confusion wash over him as Takao strolls casually in.

“Hey, Shin-chan,” Takao greets cheerily, “I heard you were babysitting and figured you might have some trouble. You haven’t got the best people skills, y’know.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Midorima grumbles sarcastically. 

The baby wails loudly, and Takao sighs. “Has she been like this for the entire hour?”

Midorima nods, defeated. 

“Give her here,” Takao offers. Midorima happily obliges, taking advantage of the baby’s shock at the sight of Takao to pry her hands off of his shirt and hand him over. Immediately she stops crying. It’s a miracle, a wonder beyond Midorima’s comprehension. He tries not to feel jealous, because Takao hasn’t even done anything. Maybe she just really hates Midorima.

Takao chuckles, rocking her from side to side. “She’s really cute, isn’t she?” he gushes, patting her head gently. 

“When she is quiet, certainly,” Midorima says, adjusting his glasses. 

Then, out of nowhere—

“Hey, Shin-chan,” Takao asks, “Why don’t we have a baby of our own someday?”

It’s a good thing Midorima is no longer holding the baby, because he would have dropped her in shock.


	4. 105. Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Drama CD in which Midorima canonly spent $500 on a lucky item for Takao. What a dork.

Takao is sure that Oha Asa is just pulling these lucky item ideas out of their ass. Or maybe they seriously have no idea that there’s actually someone out there who religiously buys every single item they suggest.

Either way, this is getting ridiculous.

He’s been laughing for five minutes straight, and he can’t bring himself to stop. His stomach hurts so bad he can’t breathe. Midorima simply glares at him, but its effect is greatly hindered by the bright red blush on his face. He looks like he’s ready to crawl into a hole and die, and Takao is actually starting to feel really bad for him, so he controls his laughter for the moment.

“Shin-chan,” Takao wheezes, “a giant Alpaca? _Really?_ Oh God, how much did that thing cost?”

Midorima looks away, adjusting his glasses. “A few hundred dollars.”

Takao nearly chokes on his own spit. Well, he always knew Midorima was a little bit crazy, but now he’s realizing that Midorima might actually be insane.

“It doesn’t matter,” Midorima mutters under his breath, clearly embarrassed at Takao’s reaction. “This item is not for me.”

Before Takao can ask what on earth that means, he’s met with a faceful of stuffed alpaca.

“Take it,” Midorima demands, and Takao takes a few steps backwards, bewildered.

“Shin-chan, _what?”_ Takao asks disbelievingly. “What do you mean it’s not for you? Why are you giving me your lucky item?”

“It isn’t my lucky item, you fool,” Midorima says. “It was simply inconvenient to hold them both at once. My lucky item for today is this pencil.” He pulls a pencil out of his jacket pocket, then puts it back.

Takao blinks. “Then—”

“This limited edition alpaca plush is the lucky item for Scorpios today,” Midorima announces, shoving the ball of fur at Takao once again. “I figured you may need it in order to do well on your exams today, so take it.”

“I—” Takao doesn’t even have words to describe how he feels right now. Contrary to his growing sense of embarrassment at arguing over a pink, fluffy alpaca in public, his heart can’t help but swell up with gratitude at the thought that Midorima had spent _hundreds_ of dollars on it. For _Takao._

A huge grin spreads over his face, and before his sense of shame can tell him otherwise, he takes the alpaca. “Thanks, Shin-chan. I mean it,” he says, wrapping his free arm around Midorima, who blushes so intensely that he actually resembles a tomato, what with his green hair and all. But the corner of his lips turns up ever so slightly in a small smile.

And honestly, Takao would do _anything_ to see that look on Shin-chan’s face. Even carrying around a giant, pink alpaca and having to bear with the horrified looks of all his schoolmates and the searing pain in his arm, because that thing is goddamned _heavy._

Takao decides that maybe Midorima’s not the only one who’s insane after all.


	5. 39. Hot

“Is it just me, or is it really hot in here?” Takao says, fanning himself with a Basketball Monthly magazine. The sticky summer heat clings to everything within its grasp, and there’s a thin layer of sweat on just about every part of Takao. He sighs, lying back on the bed and sprawling himself out to revel in the slight coolness of the sheets. As a result, his shirt rides up a little, exposing a patch of sweaty skin above the hem of his boxers.

Midorima looks over at him and quickly looks away. “The temperature has certainly elevated. I suppose we should turn on the air conditioner,” he says, adjusting his glasses.

Takao grins. “Shin-chan, this is where you’re supposed to say ‘it’s just you’, and then lavish me with compliments on how hot I am.”

“Well…” A bead of sweat rolls down Midorima’s neck. Takao props himself up on an arm and licks it off, and Midorima’s entire face and ears turn bright red.

“Just kidding,” Takao drawls. “Though I must say, you’re pretty hot yourself.” He wraps his arms around Midorima and starts nibbling gently on his neck. Midorima tenses up a little.

“We should turn on the air conditioner,” he says, trying to escape Takao’s grasp to reach for the remote control. “I don’t believe your current train of thought is going to decrease our body temperatures at all.”

Takao pulls Midorima closer, pressing his face to Midorima’s neck and his chest against his back. The sweat causes the fabrics of their shirts to stick together, and the heat radiating from Midorima’s body goes straight to Takao’s groin. Yeah, the heat pooling at the pit of his stomach is definitely not just from the temperature. “Yeah, but right now I’m hot for you, Shin-chan,” he purrs. “You gonna do something about it?”

Midorima sighs, but it’s a sigh that Takao has come to recognize as resigned rather than frustrated. He turns around and catches Takao’s lips in his. Midorima tastes like sweat and the oshiruko he was drinking earlier. “You were the one complaining about the heat,” he mumbles into the kiss.

“I changed my mind,” Takao murmurs back, pulling Midorima backwards onto the bed.

Later, when they’re exhausted and content and lying in a puddle of sweaty limbs, Midorima will mutter something about not having cooled down at all. And Takao, of course, will simply suggest they cool off in the shower—together.


End file.
